Caned over my husband's desk

Now I know this is going to seem suspicious, or convenient; a little post about a caning to tie nicely in with my last post about bringing back the cane in schools. So I can only tell you that it is not contrived and those who know me will already know that and those who don't should get to know me better and then they will know. God does that make sense? It sounds a bit rumsfeldish:)

It happened last Friday and the only reason I didn't tell you about it was because on Mondays I do try and include little snippets from the weekend press if I think any are relevant to our passion. It happened because we hadn't had any privacy at home, or elsewhere for that matter, for over a week, for reasons I won't go into, and I was exhibiting increasing signs of tetchiness.

These manifest themselves in lots of ways from distractedness and mild moods to frivolous comments, saucy quips and rude remarks or gestures,

which actually irritate my husband especially towards end of week when he's trying to tidy up for the weekend. He knows why it happens but he rarely comments.

On Friday Clare was working, she doesn't normally on Fridays, which meant I had to watch my p's and q's all day, but she left at 3pm to collect her toddler from playschool. I came back from the loo and made an obscene gesture as I walked past P's desk to my own, the gesture could have indicated I had an itch somewhere private or that I was simulating masturbation, silly and childish I know. Anyway we got to about 5.15pm and I was done for the day, I was ready to leave but P said no, he had another half hour or so to do. If we'd been in separate cars I'd have been off but we weren't, so instead I let out an exaggerated sigh, reopened my laptop and started idly surfing.

At nearly 6pm I was getting quite annoyed and I deliberately clicked on a spanking video with the volume up. P must have heard it but he didn't say anything, he got up from his desk and left the office presumably for the gents, then a minute or two later his silhouette passed our office window again heading in the opposite direction from the gents. A minute later he re-entered the office and locked the snib on the door.

"All gone home," he announced, "now come here."

I gulped

and did as instructed, isn't is funny how you kind of angle for something and then when getting it becomes suddenly and unexpectedly imminent you get butterflies in your stomach. I stood at the side of my husband's chair while he retrieved a crook handled cane from under the lip of his desk and removed the short strips of packaging tape which holds it there. He moved his laptop and paperwork aside to leave a large clearing, then his chair went back and a childish and rude girl was guided by her husband's free hand over the desk, his other hand holding the wicked implement that normally resides beneath. I made the usual 'what are you..?...I haven't done....hold on a minute...' kind of noises but they didn't get me anywhere. I had thin black trousers on, too thin I couldn't help thinking, but at least he hadn't moved to take them down.

"I know exactly what's affecting you and, whilst I might agree recent circumstance have been a bit trying, I don't see any need for abject rudeness, moods or crude gestures, they don't become you and I won't tolerate them. I'm going to cane your bottom like the naughty and ill mannered girl you are, after which you will apologise and we'll go home and you'll behave like a responsible adult so that we can enjoy a pleasant weekend." Oh fuck fuck fuck I so wish I had notice of when he's going to do this kind of thing, I'd get his voice on record and play it over any time I feel horny. I didn't get it on record and a split second later I didn't feel horny anyway because his cane landed across the taut seat of my too thin trousers and it bloody well hurt and I cried out and stomped my feet side to side, a futile demonstration and effort to dissipate the sting. It didn't work of course, all it did was cause my husband to take a firm hold of my waist to restrain me somewhat and then deliver a rapid flurry of razor sharp strokes which had me gasping at the severity and relieved when it seemed, by the loosening of his grip, to be over.

He didn't make me apologise, just told me to get up and pack my laptop away, no more nonsense, we'd be leaving in five minutes sharp.

We left the office in less than five minutes, I'd hardly had time to recover, as we came out of the main entrance I paused on the step, looking both ways to see if anyone was watching. Ridiculous isn't it but I always feel so self-conscious if I go out immediately after being spanked, I mean nobody could possibly know, but even so I know my cheeks were flushed brightly as I followed my husband across the car park. On the short ride home about mid way, I placed my hand over my husband's on the gear shift and told him in a quite voice that I was sorry for my behaviour.

"I know, I made certain of it," he said.

We did have a nice weekend and, on Saturday morning, for the first time in a while, we had the house to ourselves and P gave me the other thing I needed. And goodness me I was ready for it.

Ronnie

xx

First picture from Miss Pink.